Mr.JediKnight
Recruit
The First Tale
"I can teach you how to defend yourself"
It hadn't been 3 nights yet and Garrick was already regretting his promise to the villagers of Reveran. Sure he had all those years of experience as a mercenary in Zendar. But he was a grunt then, and had only recently begun his own company. 'Can I really train these men?' he'd thought to himself by the camp fire. He looked somberly at a group of militia funneling rationed ale down their comrade's throat.
Doubts of his training ability were already setting in. Several of the young lads had seemed competent enough the previous nights, but were disarmed and disabled within seconds of confrontation with Garrick's spear. "Swords. Clubs. Garbage. The pike is a weapon for the humble farmer." He got up from the campfire and picked up his spear. That black-haired lad showed some promise.
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Garrick awoke sometime around dawn. Pulling on his leather cap and grabbing his spear, he left his tent to find the source of the alarum. The village began to stir as the scout ran yelling to Garrick. They were here.
Garrick patrolled back and forth on his brown donkey, Winfrey. Looking at the rabble gathered before him, he sighed.
"Remember what we discussed. They have bows, and you don't have shields. We have to use speed and numbers to our advantage."
The villagers were visibly shaken. Garrick looked back away, to watch the incoming bandits. Glints of steel told him this was not going to be pretty.
He dismounted and grasped Winfrey. "This is not good-bye." he whispered, feeding his companion a carrot and shooing her off into the sunrise. Winfrey always was sensitive to violence.
The villagers were silent but very apprehensive. Garrick turned to address them, but was interrupted: "They is here!" Swiftly turning around, Garrick saw them. These peasants didn't mention lamellar chestplates, gauntlets and steel helms. This was very bad.
There was a moment of silence, and time seemed to stop. Garrick was looking at his terrified rabble. He was looking at poor villagers and men in his personal employ. He was looking at his own failure: a band of dead men. He turned around to face a merciless death. Those smug bastards. He raised his spear, his shield and his voice. He ordered: "Charge."
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ABOUT THIS SERIES
I started this character after recently reinstalling Floris Gameplay Mod Pack. I grew tired of the land of Pendor (only after countless hours, mind you) and realized I hadn't visited Calradia in awhile. The idea came about to make a character who commanded nothing but a troop of pikemen, to fight in wars as a disciplined mercenary captain or a petty lord. Thus the short, bald, donkey-riding ginger that is Garrick was born.
The series will consist of various short stories throughout Captain Garrick's career that depict anything interesting that happens, and hopefully some character development as well.
"I can teach you how to defend yourself"
It hadn't been 3 nights yet and Garrick was already regretting his promise to the villagers of Reveran. Sure he had all those years of experience as a mercenary in Zendar. But he was a grunt then, and had only recently begun his own company. 'Can I really train these men?' he'd thought to himself by the camp fire. He looked somberly at a group of militia funneling rationed ale down their comrade's throat.
Doubts of his training ability were already setting in. Several of the young lads had seemed competent enough the previous nights, but were disarmed and disabled within seconds of confrontation with Garrick's spear. "Swords. Clubs. Garbage. The pike is a weapon for the humble farmer." He got up from the campfire and picked up his spear. That black-haired lad showed some promise.
--------------------------------
Garrick awoke sometime around dawn. Pulling on his leather cap and grabbing his spear, he left his tent to find the source of the alarum. The village began to stir as the scout ran yelling to Garrick. They were here.
Garrick patrolled back and forth on his brown donkey, Winfrey. Looking at the rabble gathered before him, he sighed.
"Remember what we discussed. They have bows, and you don't have shields. We have to use speed and numbers to our advantage."
The villagers were visibly shaken. Garrick looked back away, to watch the incoming bandits. Glints of steel told him this was not going to be pretty.
He dismounted and grasped Winfrey. "This is not good-bye." he whispered, feeding his companion a carrot and shooing her off into the sunrise. Winfrey always was sensitive to violence.
The villagers were silent but very apprehensive. Garrick turned to address them, but was interrupted: "They is here!" Swiftly turning around, Garrick saw them. These peasants didn't mention lamellar chestplates, gauntlets and steel helms. This was very bad.
There was a moment of silence, and time seemed to stop. Garrick was looking at his terrified rabble. He was looking at poor villagers and men in his personal employ. He was looking at his own failure: a band of dead men. He turned around to face a merciless death. Those smug bastards. He raised his spear, his shield and his voice. He ordered: "Charge."
--------------------------------
ABOUT THIS SERIES
I started this character after recently reinstalling Floris Gameplay Mod Pack. I grew tired of the land of Pendor (only after countless hours, mind you) and realized I hadn't visited Calradia in awhile. The idea came about to make a character who commanded nothing but a troop of pikemen, to fight in wars as a disciplined mercenary captain or a petty lord. Thus the short, bald, donkey-riding ginger that is Garrick was born.
The series will consist of various short stories throughout Captain Garrick's career that depict anything interesting that happens, and hopefully some character development as well.
